I Left My Heart in Aurora

My sister is affiliated with Planned Parenthood Chicago. That’s a bit of an understatement, but in the interest of her privacy I’ll leave it at that. At intervals our dad has been volunteering his military training and Doberman-mix dog should she have use of them. I cannot express the rain of hellfire that would descend, Bronson-style, on anyone… well, let’s not talk about it. The bulletproof glass installed at the new Aurora facility says enough.

There was a point in Dr. Sister’s medical schooling where she had to choose her specialty. She wasn’t afraid of performing abortions, since it was apparent to her what happens when abortion isn’t safe and accessible. Her concern was, as many OB-GYNs refuse to do abortions, that she in the minority would have to do them all the damn time. As we talked about it, I said something glib to the effect of, “If not you, then who?” I can say things like that, because I will never ever ever have to perform an abortion.

What Dr. Sister didn’t bring up were things like “getting to work safely” and “not being stalked and threatened” — though she has pointed out “I’m more likely to die from providing abortions than any of my patients are from having one.” It was sort of a given that, if it was the right thing to do, it was the right thing to do — and God and the occasional Doberman-mix would take care of the rest.

So she went into OB-GYN. A bad day is one with cancer, prolapse, coma, excessive bleeding (this is a line of work in which bleeding must be categorized as “excessive” to be identified a bad thing.) A good day is when Dr. Sister can make a bad situation better with the skills that are uncommonly hers — wisdom, deduction, bedside manner, surgical skill and recently-acquired Spanish. Abortion, like all surgery, is the last resort when all methods of prevention have failed — and all the more necessary a resort because it is the last.

Her job has equipped her with a dark sense of humor. She says, if it were up to her, she’d blow-dart people with Depo Provera like Chincoteague ponies. When a day’s work can involve an abortion consultation with a 12-year-old incest victim while protesters chant on the lawn outside, it’s easy to understand.

You can donate to Planned Parenthood or support them in other ways. But if you have a hot minute, write a thank-you note to the clinic in Aurora.

I would post their address, but by forcing you to look for it I ensure you have the logic and reasoning skills necessary to be pro-choice.


Draws. Sweats. Eats too much sugar-free candy.

You may also like...

2 Responses

  1. Sarah says:

    It’s not pro-lifers that bother me. It’s not even the protesters that bother me. (Well, ok they do, but in the interest of free speech I pretend they don’t.) What bothers me is when anybody gets up on their high moral horse and then tries to threaten someone else into believing what they believe in.

    I have a great amount of respect for your sister. I really hope that she knows that there are still people who are grateful for non-judgmental doctors like her.

  2. Drew says:

    I love your sister, and I don’t believe I’ve ever talked to her.

    I want to make Dr. Burke!

%d bloggers like this: